


Wardrobe Malfunction

by stepOnMeZenos



Series: The Trials and Tribulations of being the Warrior of Light [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Au Ra Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Clothing, Don't copy to another site, Dragoon Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Gen, Humour, Implied/Referenced Torture, Level 60 Dragoon Job Armor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 06:48:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16928490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stepOnMeZenos/pseuds/stepOnMeZenos
Summary: Sometimes wearing armor is suffering when you're an Au Ra.





	Wardrobe Malfunction

**Author's Note:**

> Please stop giving your ingame equipment large collars, Square Enix.

Charibert nonchalantly strolls out onto the platform and watches the so-called Warrior of Light stop in his tracks. The Au Ra—such a filthy, draconic creature, it's hardly a surprise he would turn out to be a heretic—casts a glance after Ser Zephirin escorting His Eminence towards the airship landing, but then apparently decides not to go after them yet, for he draws his lance and assumes battle stance. 

Charibert's smile grows, and he can hardly contain himself from calling the fire here and now. Purifying sinners is his sacred duty, bestowed onto him by the Fury, and he hasn't been able to exercise it nearly as much as he likes. Ser Aymeric being at his mercy has made for a wonderful pastime, but Charibert craves more than that, so much more. Oh, to sear flesh to the bones, to watch it grow red as skin blisters and then black as it chars, and to smell the sizzling odour; to hear the desperate screams of sinners come to an abrupt ending when he burns away their tongues and sees them choke on their agony, their mouths seared to a deep black; and then finally to look upon their lifeless mutilated bodies after his work is done, adorned with the marks of his divine work; truly blessed is he to have found his calling!

And it will be all the sweeter when it's the wretched Warrior of Light lying before him in fetters. 

He raises his staff and prepares to call down the holy powers given to him by His Eminence, to smite the heretics so that they may—

The Warrior of Light is paying no attention to him whatsoever. 

He appears to be fiddling with the oversized collar on his armor, muttering curses as he tugs at it. Upon closer examination, it appears that one of his horns has gotten caught in the fabric and he's struggling with pulling it loose.

"Thanks for being a good sport and letting me handle this before attacking, I wasn't expecting you to be so honorable after your conduct at the Forgotten Knight..." The Au Ra, still not looking at him, shakes his head back and forth, to no avail. "Oh, I'm going to murder the armorsmith who made this for me, this keeps happening—"

Everything in Charibert itches, _yearns_ to call the flames, to experience the blissful joy of burning heretics once more, but with considerable effort, he resigns himself to waiting. His duties usually have him administer Halone's judgement to sheep, pitiful wretches who break quickly under his skilled hands. This Warrior of Light, however, is no sheep, but a wolf—nay, a dragon. Taking the time to do it properly will be worth it. 

If only he would _hurry up_. 

Finally, the Au Ra throws his hands up in frustration and forcefully jerks his head back. Cloth rips and his horns are free, at the cost of the collar which now hangs in tatters.

"In case you were going to ask, no, I don't know who thought this collar was a good idea either."

“That was _not_ what I was going to ask. Are you quite finished?“ For the second time, Charibert prepares to become infused with the spirit of a knight of yore. 

“Well, no, I still need to get my gil back—oh, I see the look on your face, let's just finish this.“


End file.
